


Perfect Life

by Crexendo



Series: Bleach Songfics [5]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen-centric, Betrayal, Canon - Anime, Canon - Manga, Gen, Headcanon, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crexendo/pseuds/Crexendo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aizen Sousuke doesn't want to belong any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Life

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, the fifth installment of my Bleach songfics. I hope you all enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. This one isn't AiIchi, in fact, it's not about romance at all. It's mostly about some self-reflection and thoughts Aizen has, based on some of the headcannons I have about him, and from what I see in him from the anime/manga. One of my favorite bands came out with a new album recently, and I just had to do a songfic for one of their new songs, and this is what came out. The song is 'Perfect Life' by Red, and I highly recommend listening to it. Please enjoy!

_“You pretend what you say you feel_  
 _You pretend that you're something special_  
 _All the lies that you hide behind_  
 _I see right through you, see right through you,”_

They would question why he was doing this, why he would betray them, why he was suddenly the enemy. And he would shake his head and sigh, “I never was your ally.” He would say, or perhaps, “The Aizen Sousuke you knew never existed.” Either way, they would never understand where his ambition, if it could be called that, had come from, or when it had been given life inside him. They’d never even being to comprehend it.

Honestly, it wasn’t so much that he desired power, (he already had enough of that) as it was that he was disgusted with what the Seireitei had become over the long years. It was sickening really, to see the once great and powerful organization having fallen so far. What was worse was the way they pretended nothing was wrong. He’d never really been taken by that lie.

_“Paint it on, cover every inch_  
 _Any flaw will expose your weakness_  
 _I'm immune to your fantasy_  
 _I won't become you, won't become you.”_

He’d always been aware of the truth, the gradual weakening of their power, the rapid deterioration of the morals they stood for. It became less about protecting people, and more about eliminating anyone or anything that was classified as an enemy. He knew about the Maggot’s Nest, where they imprisoned people for no reason other than that they might possibly pose a threat in the future. 

He had to laugh, though. If these people hadn’t been so blinded by his mask of loyalty, he would have probably would have landed himself a place in that prison as well. But Aizen Sousuke was not a person they could contain, not a person they could just control like they did with most, if not all, of the other Shinigami, who lived perfectly content under the lie that they were the ‘protectors of life,’ the ‘guardians of the balance’ or any other frilly title they liked to give themselves. He wasn’t like them, and he’d known that since he’d become aware of his power, so many years ago.

_“You want a perfect, perfect life_  
 _Nothing wrong, nothing real inside_  
 _All I see is a perfect lie._  
 _I don't want your perfect life_  
 _I don't want your perfect life,”_

_‘These poor people’_ , he often thought, _‘they have no idea how deluded they are.’_ His awareness of reality was perhaps what made it so easy to pretend otherwise. The kind, gentle-handed, scholarly captain they all knew and trusted, that was all a lie, to fit in with the lie around him. Sometimes, he felt nothing but pity for the dwindling authority and society of the Seireitei, but most of the time, Aizen was filled with disgust and anger, roiling under the surface, hidden just out of sight from those around him. 

He didn’t want any part of their corruption and deterioration. He would remain strong when they all fell. He would be the one to make them realize what a lie they were all living. How pathetic and helpless they had become. And that poor ryoka boy they’d taken an interest in recently, the one who had befriended Kuchiki Rukia, the one whom he’d been aware of since the moment of the boy’s birth, he was becoming deluded by the influence of the dark-haired girl. Though his knowledge and exposure to the giant illusion the Shinigami all labored under was limited, and there was a chance that the orange-haired teen would see things as he had. But . . . more likely than not, he would fall under the manipulation as well. What a tragedy that would be . . . someone so young with so much unknown potential, so much concealed power that he himself was not aware of. Someone who, in many ways, was so similar to himself when he was younger.

_“So, keep your dream with no consequence_  
 _You'd damage me just to feed your senses_  
 _All you fake for reality_  
 _I see right through you, see right through you,”_

It really was pitiful, how these Shinigami, ever priding themselves on their abilities and their might, were floundering in the sea of reality. Gin found it amusing, though at times there was a bitterness to the silver haired man’s words and expression that spoke of emotions and thoughts hidden so deeply, that even Aizen couldn’t perceive them. Tousen, in the midst of his conflicted sense of justice and injustice, seemed to hold a sort of melancholy sorrow towards the way their so-called ‘home’ had become. In a way, it was a lot like what his own power was, the power of Kyouka Suigetsu, Kanzensaimin. Perfect Hypnosis. The ability to take reality and change it into whatever he wanted people to see it as. 

They underestimated him at every turn, disarmed by his apparent simplicity and uncomplicated nature, his soft voice and thoughtful expression. It made him want to laugh. Their confidence would most certainly be their undoing in the near future.

_“Take your pride, take your vanity_  
 _Can't you see that your ego's empty?_  
 _I will turn, I will walk away_  
 _I won't become you, won't become you.”_

Their arrogance astounded him at times. Really, he wondered, how can so weak a people think themselves so strong without seeing even a hint of the truth? But, that was part of the reason he was doing this, why he was planning to take the Hogyoku from inside Kuchiki Rukia, whom he had recently reclaimed, all without anyone noticing his hands pulling the strings, and then leave to prepare for his final attack, and the forging of the O-ken. 

There were those who would get in his way, more for the sake of their pride than actual concern for the life of one girl, but he was not concerned with them. It was going to be so simple, so effortless to turn his back on everything he’d known since the earliest years of his life. It would be worth it, in the end.

_“You want a perfect, perfect life_  
 _Nothing wrong, nothing real inside_  
 _All I see is a perfect lie_  
 _I don't want your perfect life_  
 _I don't want your perfect life_  
 _I don't want your perfect life,”_

Perfection was such a subjective expression. Who was really the one who decided what was without flaw, and what was flawed? But Aizen was well aware that his own version of perfection was near unattainable, at least, for now. To eliminate corruption and injustice, to take his place above everyone else, because that is what he’d been singled out to be, above all others, not by choice, but by fate. It had not been his choice to hold such power and supremacy, rather, it had been forced upon him by the invisible hands that governed existence.

And he had no choice to accept it, to deny the life-long propaganda, to break out of the normal confines and stand superior to all other beings. It was . . . heart-rending in a way . . . a way that occasionally filled him with a sense of emptiness and loneliness that made him want to break down completely. Those feelings were things he’d forced himself to expunge, as they would only hinder him. Those emotions were things he’d tried to abandon to the best of ability.

_“My eyes are wide open._  
 _I see the enemy, the hypocrisy_  
 _Your cover is fading_  
 _Secrets pouring out, castles falling down_  
 _There's nothing to hide behind_  
 _I know who I am inside_  
 _I'm perfectly broken.”_

He didn’t fit into the mold that had been carved for this era of life. He had been cast out of something other than what most others had been made out of. That had been apparent to him since he was young. He supposed, that just maybe, that there was something wrong with him. Something that made him never truly fit in with the veracity this life held. Maybe he was some sort of monster, or perhaps . . . he was some sort of god. Who was to say at this point?

He could see it, in his mind’s eye. The Shinigami would fall, the Seireitei would come down, engulfed in flames, and the lie that was their reality would be recognized, and they would fall into despair, and finally . . . truly, accept him for what he was. But before then . . . he would have to discover himself what he really was. 

_“You want a perfect, perfect life_  
 _Nothing wrong, nothing real inside_  
 _All I see is an empty lie_  
 _I don't want your perfect life_  
 _I don't want your perfect life_  
 _I don't want your perfect life_  
 _I don't want your perfect life_  
 _The perfect life!”_

The Seijotokyorin was quiet, peaceful in a way, hidden away from the world he was about to destroy. It was easy to think here, but it was also easy to fall back onto the parts of him, the weak, emotional parts of him that refused to die. Doubts flickered through his thoughts occasionally, insecurities, the feel of isolation, sadness, even a bit of fear, things that pulled at him, and reminded him that he was still, in a sense, human. Still alive, even if at times he didn’t feel as though he was.

“Dere’s someone ‘ere who wants ta see ya.” That was Gin’s voice. Ah, so it was time. Crushing down all of his reservations and anything else that would hinder him in the next few hours, he readied himself to begin his carefully planned out reign of chaos and destruction. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out to stand in front of the doorway of the Seijotokyorin, and gazed upon the first victim of his reprisal with a smile on his face.

“Hello, Hinamori-kun.”


End file.
